A pair of detectives came to my room a few minutes after we were allowed back upstairs to ask some questions. There was nothing claiming, showing, or proving that I had anything to do with starting that fire. There was no need to go down to the police station, be questioned any further, or was considered a suspect of this arson. By the morning, the event and the words from my dad and I had spread to everyone there for the training weekend. This included the UK based company who then had a good excuse to start selling direct to several of our best sales groups cutting us entirely out of that loop. They claimed only I (and their marketing director) was seen around the fire, there was something fishy, and that long term success could not be established with my dad’s company due to his questionable heir. Still not sure what exactly happened or why this type of blackout happened again was enough to humble me at least half in size and confidence.

Life and work needed to continue and so did my training sales groups across the country. The only difference is that big money making, advanced, wall mounted gas detection systems were not added to my repertoire. Not even three weeks had gone by before I was up in the Pacific Northwest. There was a large sales group who had been working with us a long time that had offices in Portland, Seattle, and Spokane. I had always been going there about twice a year and flying from each of those cities to train and go on important customer sales calls with those branches. The first stop was Portland, Oregon on this particular itinerary. After two days, I was staying at a hotel near the Portland Airport so that I could take the very short flight up to Seattle the next morning to visit that office. That night it was Thursday, November 3, 1994. That night involved three glasses of Long Island Ice Tea, one Ambien, and the worst blackout up to and since then in my life.

The last thing I remembered was have drinks (and maybe some food) in the hotel bar. The next thing I remembered was having emergency vehicles all around me with lights flashing as emergency workers were pulling me out from behind the wheel of a crashed car with airbag inflated. In between was the hotel evicting me for trying to enter another room window where a couple was having sex. They nicely just got all my things together from the room and dropped me off at the airport terminal where my flight up to Seattle was the next morning. Instead of waiting, I went to rent a car and drive up to Seattle that night. Again…none of this in between do I remembered even vaguely. A car rental company actually rented me a car! Before I made it off of airport property, I smashed into and downed an airport light pole. There was no arrest or major problems because I was not considered DUI due to my size and having ‘only’ 3 drinks about 2 hours prior. God was watching me because I should have been dead, paralyzed, or at least in jail. American Express paid the $26,000 for the totaled car and my company paid the $1200 for the light pole. Never again did I travel and drink….while taking Ambien.

February 29

#61 (Day 61) Honest Open Willing 2012 Post

Getting past the public school ‘torments’, then the college ‘downfalls’, and then finally facing the ‘realities’ of who I was and who I was not led to eventual progress. There were always setbacks of large to enormous proportions each time that there seemed to be progress made. When each progress met each setback then everything was gloom and doom. As said earlier, the better things got as I got older meant the setbacks were larger. Now I was feeling like hope was lost, I was sick of myself, and life had no meaning. This 26 year old felt like an adult failure and again was a little kid. Peter Pan Syndrome was always part of me (and still is).

Life with adults did not make me feel superior, confident, or even that I fit in anymore. This is when my social life started to involve hanging around younger people typically averaging between the ages of 18 to 22. All my other friends while growing up now had careers, started families, and matured beyond me. These younger people did not have these ‘problems’, were about as mature as me, smoked a lot of marijuana, and we did this a lot together. They even introduced me to people that would sell me large amounts of pot and later on mushrooms and Ecstasy to do with them. Now I was a ‘big shot’ again because I was so ‘worldly and cool’ with money to buy pot, food, and other things for me (and for them). It was easy without needing to try, grow, or progress. But at the same time there seemed to be no setbacks either. This would be the gradual way that 1995 began and kept going.

Fun times with my adult friends were getting less and less. The most fun was becoming times I was with my younger friends or the ones that I created and found for myself. All that really mattered was not feeling pain or feeling anything bad. If it was just me by myself then fine. If others were there having fun and without it affecting me (or getting in my way) then that was also fine. One example was that a large group of friends my age went down to New Orleans with me and my wife from Wednesday, February 15 until Monday, February 20, 1995 to party. This was about one week before Mardi Gras week started. It was still wild and packed even though we got out of Bourbon Street, the French Quarter, and New Orleans about 8 days before Fat Tuesday. Most of these people (once my closest of friends) were my age but now seemed like very old, boring, whiney, party poopers, and drags to be around. This trip was not as great as I had anticipated and was more of a bummer.

My older friends (the same age as me) were not as ‘fun’ as I wanted them to be. My newer friends (much younger than me) were not always around or as ‘reliable’ as I wanted them to be. When I was by myself and wanted to get high then there were no other choices at times but to go and get marijuana all alone. One time I was robbed at gun point in my car while in Spring Valley NY looking to buy marijuana. The man had gotten in the car, pulled out his gun, and took all of my money (that was not hidden in my sock). Even after he left the car my only thing to do or say was “Can I at least please have some pot?” Then he turned around and handed me a nice size joint which was not smoked. I…thanked him…and left?!?!

This location in Spring Valley NY was a very notorious location for drugs (and crime). Another time a younger friend was driving me and another younger friend there to score pot. Just as a drug dealer leaned into the car he looked to the side and said “5-0.” This meant there was a police car behind us. We just started to pull away as the lights flashed on with the loud speaker telling us to pull over and not to move. The police asked why we were there. All we had quickly thought of (before they approached the car) was saying we got lost heading to River Vale and were asking for directions. He knew we were full of crap saying this is a known drug area and how could we have gotten lost there. There were no drugs in the car but there was a lot of money in my front shirt pocket. He told us how to get back to River Vale and to go there without stopping or coming back. If we did, then he would know why we were back and arrest us. Never ever again did I return to buy marijuana or any other type of drugs….at least from there.

March 1

#62 (Day 62) Honest Open Willing 2012 Post

Not getting caught that day for purchasing or being in the possession of marijuana was extremely lucky. Shortly afterward was the important date of Tuesday, May 23, 1995. Five years had passed and there was something that I was very glad about not happening during that time. At no point was I (caught and) arrested for anything. That day in court where I first received my sentence to five years’ probation was now officially over! A lot of big time worries about messing up and going to jail were over. I still needed to be good, but this huge weight was lifted!

My social graces were fleeting more and more as everything bothered me. This was especially so when it was people who bothered me. One of my last times DJ’ing was for a party filled with Hispanic people in the middle part of 1995. It was buffet dinner time and the younger adult couple that hired me asked if I could continue playing music but just a little bit lower. An older woman yelled across the room loudly and sternly to turn the music off because we are eating! I arrogantly and very rudely said over the speaker system ‘No Hable Espanol’ a few times. There was a lot of instant hostility and threats by many including the older woman’s nephews. I was extremely scared to death for my safety, my DJ equipment’s’ safety, my car’s safety, and lastly….the safety for the person helping me with that party. Now my thinking regarding being a DJ to entertain people had changed. This is not at all what I needed in my life. Why do I have to take this crap and play music and do as people want at their parties? Very soon I stopped DJ’ing totally so I did not have to take orders from ‘stupid’ customers. Now I could concentrate on my ‘real job’ working at my dad’s company to spend more time with my...